Public Enemy
by Twilight Scribe
Summary: The tower of fear, shattered in ancient times. The road sealed by Sparda. I shall restore it... open the Demon World... and all Earth shall tremble at my name!
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: Any half-witted lemur knows that Devil May Cry is not owned by anyone on this site.

AN: Hoy hoy, here we have another fic that has been guest written by Blackmoon. We both hope you enjoy this one as much as you enjoyed Diabolus Irae. If you haven't read Diabolus Irae yet, you should. It's not technically the prequel, but it's pretty close.

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Chapter One: Prologue: Prelude to the Black Abyss

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It was deathly quiet in the library. Most of the staff had left hours ago, and there was little light, save for a ceiling light or two. A slim man with silvery hair, clad in a long blue coat, stood alone, silently flicking through an aging volume of forgotten lore. The silence was broken by the footsteps of another man on the old stone floor. The newcomer- this one bald, and wearing a black suit- spoke out to the first: "So, you're looking for the book of ancient legends." 

The white-haired man slowly looked up from the book. The second man continued, "...the tale of the demon warrior, Sparda." The first threw the book closed with a "fwap", and placing it back on the shelf, said in a calm, chilling voice, "That's not what I'm looking for. Leave me."

However, the man in the black suit continued to come closer. As he came into the light, it became clear that he was no ordinary librarian- his eyes were of two different colors, one red and the other blue, and there was a great disfiguring mark on the side of his face. "Then what are you looking for?" he queried. "A demon that impregnates a woman, who then bears twin sons... that's the story, isn't it?"

There was a flash as the first man's hand went to the katana at his belt, and in a split second, had brought the point just short of the second man's head. He did not look up, but spoke ominously, "Leave me. I won't tell you a third time." Still, the man did not leave.

"People... inherently fear evil," he said, running his hand across the razor edge of the sword. "However..." The sword now cut into his thumb, and though drops of his blood splattered across the floor, he showed no pain, and continued speaking. "Occasionally... a person may become seduced by evil." The first man gazed at him with piercing blue eyes, then turned to face the second as he removed the blood from his sword and sheathed it. "What are you getting at?"

"Share with me..." The man in the black suit grabbed a book from the shelf, its red cover fading with age; he clutched it in his hand, close to his heart, as though it were his most prized possession. "...the story of Sparda." The first man stared at him a second, then turned and left; the second grinned maliciously, and followed after.

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Some time later, the two stood at the steps to a colossal tower that had been hidden underground eons ago, by the Legendary Dark Knight Sparda. The black-suited man- Arkham- said to the other, "The activation method is as I described before. It should be a simple matter for you. I shall go to his place- I believe that I know where the item we seek is located." With that, he turned and left. "You should dispose of any obstacles quickly." The man in the blue coat- Vergil- turned around to look for his temporary ally, but he was already gone.

Instead, the ground was rippling like water. Two demons, stark white with blood-red markings and burning scythes- in the Demon World, they were known as Abysses- rose from the ground, speaking something in an unholy tongue. They began to approach, and more appeared from behind, on the steps. All at once, they leapt for Vergil, who stood, calmly observing the whole time.

Then, he became a blur of motion. With the handle of his sword, he deflected the scythe of one to his right, turned around, blocked another, and drew his blade. In an instant, an Abyss demon that had leapt for Vergil was sliced in half in midair, spraying blood across the field. Vergil switched his grip, and smashed in the face of an Abyss to his left with the handle of his sword, before righting the blade and cutting three more of his foes in twain.

As they collapsed, gushing blood into the air, Vergil calmly sheathed his sword. More devils rose from the ground, all around him, encircling him. One to his right brought its scythe down for a killing blow, but to no avail. Vergil merely stepped backward, knocked it back with his sheath, and drew his blade. He turned again and caught one Abyss by the feet with the sheath, sending it turning end-over-end; he sliced it in half, and it hit the ground, lifeless.

Another Abyss, held in shock by the death of its comrades, held the scythe up in a pitiful block; Vergil showed no mercy, cutting through first the scythe, and then the wielder, slowly being consumed by his own bloodlust. Not a single foe could land a blow on them- he sent them wheeling through the air, cleaving them in half, sometimes even slaying two with one blow. The sky seemed to rain blood, matting down his hair, and yet more demons arrived on the battlefield.

Vergil slowly began to scream, a bone-chilling, growling battle cry. It rose to a near shout as he dashed through the onslaught of foes, cleaving a swath of destruction in his path, each sword strike effortlessly annihilating the devils. Once they had all collapsed, dead, at his feet, he spun the blood from his favored blade, Yamato, and placed it back in its sheath.

"Hm," he muttered, almost as if to scoff at his opponents. He reached up and wiped the blood out of his hair, putting it back in a swept-back style like he usually kept it, and walked slowly up the steps to the tower. When he reached the top, he stopped before the great door, closed his eyes, and breathed deeply.

"It begins," he said to himself, and entered.

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	2. Chapter 2

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Chapter Two: A Crazy Party

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Vergil stepped through the door, into a massive circular chamber. There were two walkways- one that extended to his left, to a door, and one on the opposite side of the room going the same direction. The chamber seemed to go down forever- there was little more than blackness both above and below where he stood. According to Arkham, the current bridge was the one he needed to take. The silence was almost unnerving in the room, but the devil in blue seemed completely detached from the situation. 

He reached the other end, opened the door, and went inside. A Hell Sloth- a skeletal figure in a dirty black robe, clutching a sickle- turned towards Vergil's unexpected entry and grunted something. It tried its best to be menacing- waving its scythe and howling- but Vergil barely spared it a sidelong glance as he worked his way across the narrow stone room. He gave it a powerful shove as he passed by towards the spiral staircase, and the Sloth collapsed, dissolving into a pile of sand as it hit the wall.

The staircase curved downward into a similar antechamber. That chamber's door revealed another massive stone bridge, ornately done with torches and skeletal decorations, and still little more than blackness surrounded this section of the central chamber. And yet Vergil could not pass through here without incident, either. A group of Hell Sloths and Lusts was gathered, sleeping, around the bridge, with a massive Vanguard watching over the lot of them.

As Vergil approached, the Vanguard took notice and shrieked, awakening the demons. They took up their scythes and howled as well, then charged at Vergil. The first four were easily dispatched; he caught one with his scabbard and threw it over the railing, along with the second. Before the other two had registered this, he drew his sword and sliced them neatly in half.

The next wave of Hellkeepers took a step back in shock. Vergil twirled his blade and sheathed it, saying quite matter-of-factly, "You shall die." He crouched, and ducked forward, and was disappeared. The demons tried to get out of the way, but Vergil reappeared overhead, spinning with his sword outstretched. He took the head off of a Lust, landed neatly on its shoulders, and leapt off, piercing another's skull and wrenching it off with a sharp twist of the blade.

The Vanguard watched in shock as its troops were decimated by this solitary man. In an act of cowardice, it turned to run away, but was quickly spotted as the last devil fell before Vergil's blade. "What's wrong?" The Vanguard turned back in horror, but just as it did, Vergil appeared next to it, blade gleaming in the torchlight. There was a pause as he sheathed it, and the Vanguard collapsed, cut into quarters by the lightning-fast sword strikes.

He brushed the sand and dust off of his coat with a scoff, and continued across the bridge. After some uneventful travels through the halls of the Temen-Ni-Gru, Vergil reached the location he desired- the Lair of Judgment. The great door lay open, exposing the inner chamber. There was a small central platform, and the ceiling had graven images of demons of all sorts grinning maliciously downward. At the center of the room was a circular indentation.

Vergil removed the Orichalcum that Arkham had given him on the way to the tower from his coat pocket. It was a fist-sized red rock that could reportedly provide enough power to raise the Temen-Ni-Gru from its subterranean trappings. He approached the center of the room and followed the instructions to activate the tower that Arkham had said to him before.

Vergil placed the Orichalcum in the indentation in the floor; it slowly crackled and dissolved, and hundreds of lines on the floor began to glow eerily with the newfound power. "Temen-Ni-Gru, tower of fear that Sparda constructed in ancient times," he began to recite. "Rise, now- unleash your power upon this world once more. Release the devils in your clutches to sow chaos upon the world of men."

These words seemed to echo and hang in the air for an eternity. Then, the chamber shook. It began as a low rumbling, slowly growing to a roar. Vergil left the room calmly- the door slammed behind him as he left, but he didn't seem to take notice- and headed for the apex of the rising tower to wait for Arkham.

The ground cracked, and shifted outside. Entire city blocks sank into the ground, leveling the city as the massive Temen-Ni-Gru shot up from the ground, a symbol of resurrecting evil. Vergil walked out to the summit after it had cleared the soil, observing as it rose into the sky in the dusk. It was time for the party to begin.

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AN: We love Vergil's taunts, don't you? 


	3. Chapter 3

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Chapter Three: Preparations for the Bash

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The wind blew atop the black tower Temen-Ni-Gru. The setting sun cast a sickly rust-red over everything in view. "Arkham," called out Vergil tersely. The black-clad theologian responded from behind, "Well? Doesn't it excite you? The Temen-Ni-Gru has revived, the great one who once ruled this earth as the medium between the Human World and the Demon World." 

There was passion in Arkham's voice as he strode to Vergil's side, gazing out over the apex of the tower onto the city below. "Isn't a magnificent view? The greatest minds of their time, those who revered evil, constructed this glorious edifice." Vergil said nothing, his eyes closed in thought as Arkham's fervor grew in intensity. "Now, after two millenniums of confinement, it can finally fulfill the purpose for which it was intended—"

"That's _none_ of my concern," interjected Vergil. Arkham, almost offended that the son of Sparda did not share Arkham's passion for evil, quieted himself. "Did he have it?"

"Of course," replied Arkham, dejected. "He's taking good care of it. After all, it is the only memento left of the mother you both lost."

Vergil reached down to his chest, grasping the amulet he carried. The golden chain rattled, and the faceted gemstone glimmered in the fading daylight. "But he has no idea of its true power," spoke the demon, half to himself, and half to his audience.

A Vanguard leapt up onto the roof of the tower, next to Vergil, breaking the silence. This one, however, was not sent against Vergil- it was sent by him. Its task was to combat Dante, and, despite the fact that it never stood a chance, Vergil was a little disappointed; his makeshift servant had fled before the end of the fight. He turned and walked away, Yamato in hand, as the robed phantasm howled and gesticulated pitifully, hoping for some form of mercy.

Vergil stopped. The Vanguard drew closer, and Vergil's hand leapt to his sword, drawing it and slicing through the air with grace and speed. The Vanguard gasped, and halted, while its master sheathed his blade. There was a metallic click as the sword locked into its scabbard, and the Vanguard burst into pieces, sand and tattered strips of black cloth scattering through the wind. What remained of the body tumbled down the side of the tower to the ground unceremoniously.

Arkham watched the entire proceeding intently, and followed behind Vergil when he left the scene afterwards.

Night had fallen; Vergil had begun brooding at a small passage named the Moonlight Mile overlooking the city, with Arkham seated nearby, thumbing through the pages of an ancient book. It was named the Moonlight Mile because, since the sun set, the full moon shone brightly there, like a shining guardian in the sky, overseeing all.

"It seems we have an uninvited guest," said Vergil after a long silence. He was referring to the strange girl who had broken in after Dante on a motorcycle- someone who did not entirely fit into his plan.

"Is that so?" returned Arkham, never looking up from his tome.

"A human. A woman."

Arkham paused, then shut the book and rose from his seat. "I'm afraid I should ask the uninvited one to leave. That _is_ what you want." Vergil characteristically did not respond, but Arkham continued anyway. "Actually, I happen to be acquainted with that woman." He walked away, down the Moonlight Mile, muttering under his breath, "A storm is approaching."

Vergil turned his head and gazed at Arkham oddly. _What could he mean?_ thought Vergil. The statement seemed cryptic, even to the point of being ominous. _I will have to watch that man more closely... when he is of no further use to me, I shall dispose of him. It's the safest way.

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_


	4. Chapter 4

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Chapter Four: In Waiting

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The night was cold, and quiet. The only thing audible was the occasional passing of the beast Leviathan around the lower regions of the tower, like clockwork, every five minutes. It had been released at the same time as the tower, similarly sealed underground. In Vergil's mind, it seemed as a harbinger of what was to come; Leviathan consumed everything it could catch when it hungered, and so the soon to be released Demon World would consume all in sight. 

The devil in blue had moved back to the wide apex of the tower, to think in private, with the full moon shining down upon him. The air was almost tense; it would rain soon. But he did not care. His mind was too occupied with other matters.

_Dante,_ thought Vergil. _My younger brother. My **twin** brother. How strange it is that identical twins could turn out so different from one another. He is a fool not to seek power... and yet, I am not wholly sure why I drive myself to it._

He gazed up into the sky, moonlight reflecting off of his pale features, a mute witness to his solemn musings. _It was... ten years ago that it happened. When the demons came._ A subtle, barely noticeable look flashed across his features- a look of pain at his remembrance. _They killed our mother... and Sparda, the great one, was nowhere to be seen. His weakness did this to us. That is why I must be strong... to protect myself, to undo his mistakes, and to rule over the Demon World as its rightful lord._

This was not the first time this question had plagued him. When he was younger, when he bore witness to the attack that killed his mother and drove Dante into hiding, Vergil had nearly gone mad searching for the answer. He had wondered just what his purpose was, why the devils had come for them, and a myriad of other things. With his father, Sparda, inexplicably gone during the attack, Vergil lost faith in him. Dante had run away, and Vergil barely escaped the bloodshed by hiding from the demons. It was this that planted the seed of Vergil's hatred towards most living beings, including his own family.

Unable to accept that his father Sparda could not save them, he came to the conclusion that Sparda was pitiful and weak. After seeing Dante flee without even attempting to help, Vergil decided his little brother was a coward, unfit to inherit their father's power. These two factors, perhaps more than any others, had led to Vergil's search for power- the overriding need to become the most powerful devil in both the Demonic Realm and the Human World.

But from time to time, Vergil suspected the conclusion he had reached, and the path he had chosen, were not the right ones. Something gnawed at the back of his mind, telling him he was wrong, that he should give up on this quest for power, that no amount of strength would be able to change the past. It was at these times that he questioned himself, and came back to the same notion every time. And each time, Vergil loses a little more of his mind.

The clouds hung heavy in the sky, ominous and overbearing, obscuring the moon. Vergil was so lost in thought that he had barely noticed the sound of the door from the Moonlight Mile opening and closing, and the noise of the boots approaching the tier from the lower path. He was broken from his reverie by the rain beginning to fall from the sky, slowly at first, but increasing in intensity. It soaked Vergil's clothing, chilling him to the bone. The pale moon became reflected in the puddle of water gathering on the floor.

The soft steps of the boots on the wet ground were closer, now, coming up the stairs, accompanied by the soft rustle of a long, red coat. Vergil knew who was there. He barely turned his head at all to acknowledge the new arrival, and said only one short phrase:

"You showed up."

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Blackmoon: I'm looking forward to the next chapter and kinda like the note I ended this one on. Also: Everyone should go back and replay DMC3, except look at it from the perspective of Vergil possibly being criminally insane. It'll change the whole experience .

TS: I agree, and you better write that next chapter soon Blackmoon. I want to see it!


	5. Chapter 5

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Chapter Five: A Chance Meeting

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Vergil turned around to face his red-clad brother, Dante. The latter walked casually towards Vergil, pistol glinting in the moonlight and rain dripping off his blood-red leather.

"You sure know how to throw a party!" said Dante, breaking the silence in the most sarcastic way he could muster. "No food, no drinks... and the only babe just left." His manner and tone were those of a reunion of old allies rather than feuding brothers. But Vergil had known him long enough to go with it.

"My sincerest apology, brother. I was so eager to see you, I couldn't concentrate on preparations for the bash."

Dante turned and looked as though he would leave, but stopped and said, "Whatever." He faced Vergil once more, hands out, adding, "At any rate, it's been a whole year since we last met. How about a kiss from your little brother? Or better yet..." For dramatic effect, the red devil twirled his gun with a flair, stopping it as it pointed straight at his twin, and finishing his thought with a wink, "...how about a kiss from this?"

The words lingered in the air, rain falling heavily. There was a clap of thunder, and light flashed through the clouds overhead. "So," mused Dante, still aiming his gun at Vergil, "this is what they call a heartwarming family reunion, eh?"

Vergil bowed his head with a grin, and replied calmly, "You got that right." He unlocked his blade from the sheath with a thumb, and tensions snapped. Dante fired immediately, but Vergil had become quite accustomed to his tactics in their last encounter.

The shots rang through the air, and Vergil blurred with speed. He vanished, a puddle of water bursting up from where he kicked off. Dante responded with his step in the practiced war dance, and tossed his pistol in the air to free his hand; the newly liberated hand leapt to the broadsword slung across his own back and drew it to meet Vergil's attack.

The elder brother's attack was stopped short by the massive blade, but nimble as he was, he countered immediately. Vergil used Yamato as a lever against Dante's blade, Rebellion, and spun into the air- deftly using his sword to hit the flying pistol higher into the sky, and away from its wielder.

As Vergil landed on the other side, Dante spun around and attempted to skewer him on the Rebellion. Vergil sidestepped quickly and cut Dante's right arm as it passed, though it was only a flesh wound- it had cut through his sleeve at the elbow, but the wound was so shallow that it began to seal almost instantly.

Vergil stepped away and sheathed Yamato. The pistol clattered against the stone floor with a splash, and the rain matted down Vergil's hair. The only difference between the two now, physically, was the choice of weaponry and sense of fashion.

"This could be fun," quipped Vergil with a barely visible grin.

Dante smiled wide and returned the taunt- "Bring it on." He even threw in the classic beckoning gesture with his free hand for good measure.

What little mirth there was vanished from Vergil's features as he stepped back, hand over the hilt of his sword and glowing with a nearly black demonic aura. His arm moved with an inhuman speed, and there was a blur in the air where Dante stood. The demon in red reflexively leapt forward and rolled, snagging his gun as the distinctive flashes of a sword appeared in the air over his head.

As Vergil returned to his former stance, Dante continued moving, dashing towards his brother and bringing Rebellion down for a deathblow. Vergil drew his sword to block and pushed Dante back with a powerful battle cry.

The two stood in their places for a long time, staring each other down and smiling to one another. Their heavy breathing was barely audible in the torrential downpour. Dante pitched forward, starting to run, his sword sparking as it dragged along the ground. As he reached his target, he swung the sword around overhead, but Vergil hit it out of the way as though it were child's play.

Dante twirled his sword in a defensive pattern to regain his bearings and buy some time, pulled it back, and thrust the deadly blade at Vergil; the latter deflected it again, tossing his sword in the air and hitting the younger brother in the gut with the pommel. Dante barely got off an easily-blocked counterstrike as he was forced back against one of the decorative statues on the perimeter of the platform, then reached for a pistol and fired off seven quick shots towards Vergil.

But such a blunt tactic had never worked on his brother; he spun Yamato around, creating a makeshift shield in front of himself, and catching each bullet in the vortex. He dropped the point to the ground, allowing each stopped bullet to line up in front of his sword, and with a mighty swing, sent them hurtling back towards their sender. Dante brought his own sword down in the nick of time and cleaved each deadly missile in half; this was the way their 'family reunions' usually played out, and both brothers were used to this sort of back-and-forth.

"Why do you refuse to gain power?" Vergil called out. "The power of our father, Sparda?"

Dante rose, propping himself against his sword; he was visibly worn out from the fight. "Father?" he chuckled. "I don't have a father. Heh... I just don't like you, that's all." He paused, then shouted, and attacked once more. The two locked blades simultaneously, grinning and staring each other right in the face. It was as though they derived some sort of sick pleasure from this brotherly fighting.

The blades ground against each other with incredible force, but Vergil got the upper hand and broke the blade-lock. As Dante's blade sailed through the air, it caught the moonlight- and the reflection of Vergil impaling his own kin on the razor edge of the Yamato. Dante's blood splattered onto the ground, mixing with the rainwater grotesquely. "Foolishness, Dante..." Vergil twisted the blade in Dante's as an emphasis, causing Dante to double over in pain. "Foolishness."

"Might controls everything," the demon in blue continued, "And without strength, you cannot protect _anything_..." He put a hand against Dante's chest, and spat, "Let alone _yourself,_" pushing Dante off of his sword and grabbing the pendant from his neck- the pendant that was so very similar to the one Vergil himself wore. The younger brother reached forward as he fell back, to try and reclaim the trinket, but Vergil cut him across the palm, and Dante fell onto the ground.

Vergil looked down at the pendant- identical to his, but in silver rather than gold- and watched it glint in the moonlight. _At last,_ thought he, and put it to his forehead as if to absorb the moment; but instead, he slicked back his hair, shaking the rainwater from it, with the pendant's chain still wrapped around his hand, and grinned triumphantly, smugly. He sheathed his sword and turned from Dante, picking up Rebellion as he passed.

There was a slight rustle as Dante stirred from the ground, but Vergil immediately turned on heel, rushed forward, and nailed Dante to the floor with the massive broadsword, his blood seeping out and mixing with the water he lay in.

"Do you finally have it?" remarked Arkham, who had rejoined the scene sometime during the entire affair.

"Yes... now the spell Sparda cast will be broken."

The two began to leave together as the wind and rain picked up, but there was a noise behind them- then a geyser of water from where Dante lay as Rebellion shot into the air. Vergil turned around, drawing his sword, and Dante skewered his own right fist on the blade, appearing as though from nowhere and scowling grimly.

"I see a devil inside _you_ has awakened as well," said Vergil as Dante wrenched his hand from the sword, the wound quickly sealing in light of his freshly awakened Devil Trigger. Dante gripped the blade and attempted to throw Vergil, who flipped gracefully and landed on both feet. The latter made a motion to attack, but Arkham stopped him, calling out, "Wait! We should leave. For the moment, we have all that we need."

Vergil narrowed his eyes as Dante lurched forward, worn down and beaten, but determined, and with the wicked aura of a true Devil. Vergil walked away and leapt off the apex, to the door to the Moonlight Mile, and Arkham followed with him. With the rain dying down, they heard the cry of a devil awakening as they closed the door behind.

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	6. Chapter 6

AN: Alright everyone, ere you get your panties in a twist, I have this message from Blackmoon for you:

**Note: This chapter is going to be retconned; one of the door-opening cutscenes takes place in the place where Vergil's story started, but there's no reason for them to be there, or for Arkham to be necessary for opening that door; hence, two cutscenes will be merged into one at artistic discretion.**

Thanks for your patience everybody. On with the show!

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Chapter Six: Severing Ties

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"People once cried out in fear of this tower. Temen-Ni-Gru, a foundation that brought out fear." The two men walked through the silent corridors of the tower. Vergil characteristically said nothing, barely hearing Arkham's monologue, so entrenched was he in his own thoughts. 

"Fear," chuckled Arkham. "Yes, fear." He spoke of it as though it were a deity, a living entity to be shown the utmost reverence.

_The time is nearly come, _thought Vergil.

"Can't you feel it? The rage and agonies of the people. Those who were confined here, with their desires for evil being unfulfilled. It was all because Sparda slammed the door to the Demon World in their faces."

Vergil closed his eyes. _Such disrespect_, he thought, _for father. He has no idea of Sparda's power._

Vergil walked through the door before the black-suited man, into the crescent-shaped chamber of marble. The Divinity Statue, mute yet omnipresent, served as a definite landmark; the massive, heavily sealed door confirmed it. This was the Lair of Judgment, sealed unintentionally when the Temen-Ni-Gru was raised, and now waiting for the hand of evil to open it once more.

Vergil stopped, and turned his head back towards his associate. "What's wrong?"

Arkham said nothing, staring into the distance, and responded with an unusually subdued, "Nothing."

Vergil continued onwards to the sealed door, Arkham lagging behind, seemingly stuck within his own head. He soon returned to his previous, passionate mode of speech, however.

"Soon, we will reach the Lair of Judgment. Temen-Ni-Gru will finally regain its full function and lead us into the Demon World." He flipped through his book to the proper page, and chuckled softly while making a gesture in the air before the doorway. "And the one who will lift the incantation is you, his own son." Arkham placed a fragment of Orichalcum in the indentation on the door, and the heavy iron bolts slid open with a rumble. "It must be fate."

The door swung open, and Vergil began to step forward; Arkham stepped to the side and gestured him into the room as a sign of obeisance, and Vergil began to enter- but stopped just short of the threshold.

"Does that woman really bother you?" he asked, barely hiding his contempt.

"What are you talking about?" Arkham was noticeably shaken by the question, almost indignant. _Hm. My suspicion was correct, _surmised the blue devil.

"Why didn't you kill her?" he continued, still facing forward into the Lair of Judgment. "Perhaps because she's your daughter? Did some pesky fatherly love get in your way?"

Arkham stepped to Vergil's side, becoming ever more incensed. "That's none of your--!"

Vergil drew his blade faster than the eye could see. Arkham's book hit the floor with a thud, and vermilion stains blotted the already weathered cover. Vergil turned around to face Arkham directly- never removing the sword from his former ally's belly.

"To further your study of the black arts, you sacrificed your loving wife. To become a devil as well. Knowing this, I thought you'd be more useful to me." He quickly wrenched the sword in Arkham's gut and forced it in further, mangling the frail human flesh and splattering blood across the floor. "No wonder your attainment of power is incomplete."

"What about you? You're an incomplete being as well. Both demon... and human blood... mingle in your veins." The words barely formed through Arkham's agony- his vision blurred, and he could barely stand upright. There was a clear look of hatred in Vergil's eyes, as he spat out simply, "Shut up."

He swung the sword out of Arkham's abdomen and twirled it through the air, shaking blood off in all directions, and slowly placed it back in the scabbard. As he turned to face the Lair of Judgment once more, Arkham collapsed, nearly dead, to the floor.

"Now that the final door is open... I have no use for you."

_All there is to do is break the spell, and break Dante... that strange little man is no longer a threat at all,_ thought Vergil as he walked through the chamber.

The door slammed shut behind him, and bolted itself closed once more. The final phase of Vergil's plan was about to come to fruition.

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	7. Chapter 7

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Chapter Seven: An Old Friend

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The room was the same as Vergil had left it. It was still eerily silent, glowing lines of energy etches into the stone floor; the grinning demonic statues set into the arced ceiling stared downward at Vergil as he walked into the room.

Something was amiss, though.

There was something palpable, but implacable, lingering in the air; a feeling of omen. Vergil saw the same indentation in the floor which he had activated the tower with earlier, and he grinned at his own blossoming plan as he walked towards it.

Suddenly, something crashed outside. There was a growl, and another crash, and a great beast burst through into the room from above.

"I found you, Seed of Sparda!" it howled. The beast was truly repugnant; it had a grotesque, catlike face, with a scar across one eye and the other dripping blood. The body was a grayish green, and covered in some sort of coarse fur; the hindquarters, however, were covered in large scales, and a scorpion's tail protruded from its back. Each limb terminated in a massive clawed paw, each in turn glowing white.

Vergil turned to face the aberration, eyeing it with contempt._ Another distraction. How ungrateful of this poor beast- all it's doing is slowing its own freedom._

"I told you that I remembered your rancid scent!" it growled again; "No matter where you run to, you can never hide from _me_!"

_How curious, _thought the devil in blue. _This pitiful creature seems to think we've met._

The beast raised a single talon-laden paw and brought it down above Vergil. _Time to put it out of its misery._ Vergil pounced, drawing his sword and twirling acrobatically, each turn gouging the sword into the monster's flesh with the smoothness and precision of a knife through butter.

The so-called Seed of Sparda landed deftly upon the demon's back before it truly realized what had hit it. "Y-you... you're not the one I faced before... But this smell! There are two of them!"

Vergil began slowly placing his sword away behind his back as the defeated demon talked. It spoke its last piece:

"That excrement Sparda had two sons...!"

Its head fell apart, cleanly, onto the floor in a pool of blood. Vergil leapt off as the last of its motor functions gave out, and the corpse collapsed to the floor, bleeding profusely, glowing feathers scattering into the air.

As the soul of the departed began to leave its corporeal shell, Vergil outstretched his arm, beckoning the glowing light forth. It flashed, and in its stead, radiant steel gauntlets appeared on Vergil's forearms, followed by a similar pair of beastlike greaves on his legs. He looked over the ensemble, admiring the newfound power, and then opted to test it out.

He rushed forward, almost gliding across the ground, and delivered an uppercut to the corpse's underside, launching it into the air. It crashed against the vaulted ceiling, and Vergil was already on the other side, in midair, preparing his next strike. He turned over, somersaulting, and let out a battle cry, slicing the body in half with the back of his heel at the same time.

He hit the ground a millisecond before the body tore asunder, in a confident battle stance. Luminescent feathers, remnants of the demon's energy, wafted through the air all around.

_This beast must have come across dear brother... no wonder he beat it so easily. This pitiful excuse for a demon would've been better off born a Hellkeeper or an Abyss. _He smirked to himself as he approached the center of the room, the armor fading into the ether for the time being. _This means, then, that Dante has improved... and will provide a more fitting test of this power if he gets here before I'm done._

He dug the two halves of the Perfect Amulet, the key to the Demon World, out of his pocket, and placed the Yamato at his side, on the ground.

_Now... to release those repressed by Sparda in ancient times.

* * *

_


	8. Chapter 8

Blackmoon: I like the "damn you!" bit in-game.

TS: Man, oh man, I've been waiting for this chapter forever! Look alive people, thought Blackmoon is loathe to admit it, this is an amazing bit o'work.

* * *

Chapter Eight: Chaos' Warm Welcome

* * *

Vergil held the two halves of the Perfect Amulet in his outstretched hands. Slowly, they rose into the air of their own accord, accompanied by a high-pitched trilling, and fused together, glowing. Vergil looked eagerly as the amulet descended into the sacrificial pit in the floor and disappeared. 

He kneeled down and lifted Yamato off the floor. The blade leapt from the sheath with a metallic ring, and glinted in the light reflected from the glowing sigils on the floor. Vergil brought the blade around and caught it in his left palm, then wrapped his hand around it. A grimace went over his face as he slowly, agonizingly drew the razor edge across his hand, demon blood staining the bright metal a deep red.

At the very end, he swung the blade out, painting a vermilion arc across the floor as he let the blood flow from the wound in his hand into the sacrificial pit. The water therein became cloudy as it diluted the blood. Vergil thought it highly symbolic- the pure, untainted water, corrupted by the blood of the son of Sparda.

His self-inflicted wound had already begun to seal up, and he rose, seizing Yamato's sheath as he stood. With a characteristic flair, he twirled the sword and replaced it within its _saya_.

And then he waited. He mulled his thoughts over in his head, and waited.

He began to grow impatient, circling the pit and staring into it, as though willing it to somehow undo Sparda's spell with his mind alone.

Long minutes passed in near silence as he paced and fumed. Eventually, he could stand it no more, and shouted to the empty room, "**Why** isn't this working!? Is there something **missing**? Must more blood be shed!?"

So occupied was he in his own thoughts, Vergil didn't even notice Dante open the door and enter behind him.

"You seem to be in a bad mood," Dante called out, in his typical cocky manner. Vergil turned, surprised to see him back so soon.

"Dante." Almost reflexively, Vergil's hand went to Yamato; however, he stopped himself, and dropped his hand. _I can't let rage get the better of me. I am beyond that. _In any case, Dante didn't seem to have noticed.

"So... my mother's amulet is the key that unlocks the door to the Demon World. Good plan, pop."

Vergil scoffed. "Just the opposite, actually. Originally, it was the key to the Demon World- but was given to humans as a gift."

"It doesn't matter to me one way or the other. More importantly, I've come all this way..." Dante pulled Rebellion off his back and pointed it at his twin. "I'm sure you have time for one more game... right?"

Vergil smirked, and drew his sword halfway. _No... I have a little surprise for him,_ thought he, and put it away. "Why not? After all, we share the same blood."

Vergil adopted a martial arts stance, his arms and hands glowing with a wicked light. The Beowulf gauntlets materialized on his arms, and the greaves on his legs, and he continued, "I'll just use more of yours to undo daddy's little spell."

Dante laughed. "So, you want a piece of me _literally_! Okay, bro. Come and get it- if you can!"

The brothers circled each other, a pair of expert fighters sizing one another up. Vergil had new tricks that Dante hadn't yet assessed, and Dante's powers seemed to have grown since last the two fought. Neither quite knew what the other was capable of.

Vergil vanished and appeared beside Dante, throwing a powerful right hook at Dante's head. Dante ducked out of the way, bringing Rebellion up to take a chunk out of Vergil's gut, but the blue devil deflected the deadly steel with an iron-clad boot and delivered a kick with the other foot to Dante's shoulder. There was a pop as Dante rolled across the floor, then stood up and yanked his shoulder back into place.

"You are not worthy as my opponent," hissed Vergil and charged forward for an uppercut. Dante circled around to Vergil's back and brought his sword down, but Vergil seemed to teleport out of the way, appearing overhead and using the same wheeling kick that he had used to mangle Beowulf's body.

The kick missed, however, as Dante fell back; Vergil's heel cracked the stone floor with its impact and he growled in frustration. "Come on, man!" taunted Dante, beckoning Vergil forward with a free hand.

"Don't get so cocky." A circle of air around Vergil warped and shifted, and five ethereal broadswords, glowing blue and spinning around him like a shield, appeared from nowhere.

He teleported again, this time coming up right in front of Dante- the phantom swords following suit. The blades passed through Dante without any visible harm, but he howled in pain and fell back, coughing up blood- the blades cut directly into his soul. Vergil lunged forward in the moment where Dante's guard was dropped, and punched directly at his face. But the blow didn't connect.

Dante had dropped Rebellion with a clang to catch Vergil's attack with his bare fist. Both scowled at each other- Dante in pain and Vergil in rage. Dante reached behind, removing a pistol and positioning himself so that he was just out of the path of the deadly summoned swords. He fired five direct shots at Vergil's gut, but the swords seemed to sense the danger and phased in front of the bullets, shattering like glass- and negating the damage entirely.

Vergil grinned triumphantly and turned around, planting a heel in Dante's face. Blood spilled onto the floor, slowly trickling down the glowing engravings into the sacrifice pit. Dante fell backwards, but kicked his sword into the air with his foot and caught it as he hit the ground.

He rolled back onto his feet and attempted a thrust towards Vergil. At the last moment, though, the blow was deflected- a force field erected itself before Vergil, and a powerful wind pushed him off his feet. From within the barrier, there was a blue flash, and the field disappeared, Vergil included. Dante turned around and saw behind him a hideous devil, grinning wickedly.

Its head appeared to be of bone and black flesh- the body, blue-clad and lithe.

This devil was Vergil.

Vergil threw another punch at Dante, who sidestepped it and buried his sword in Vergil's stomach. However, Vergil continued to grin, and pulled the sword out as the wound began to seal itself.

Dante laughed and stepped back. "Nice trick, bro." There was a burst of red light, and Dante copied the transformation, dressed in red instead of blue. "I can do that too!"

"Perhaps we should get down to serious business," said Vergil, his voice warped and distorted. He put his hand on Yamato, whose sheath appeared to have fused with his left arm in his fully Devil Powered state.

Dante charged for another thrust, but Vergil teleported across the room. He didn't hesitate for a second to continue the attack, and the air warped around Dante. Dante rolled from under the attack at the last second as twin sword strikes arced through the air. Vergil dashed at him, swinging Yamato ahead of him as he went.

His brother ducked under a fatal blow and embedded Rebellion in Vergil's chest, a gout of blood spraying onto the floor. Vergil made no indication of discomfort, nor even ceased his attack, as he turned around for another volley.

The clanging steel rang out through the opened door into the hallway as another player joined the scene unnoticed. After a while, the two devils tired, their true forms disappearing as they reverted to a more human appearance. Their combat was just as frenzied, the blades beating against one another frantically. Blood ran down their limbs onto the floor, and in turn, into the pit.

They locked blades again, glaring at each other; as before, they allowed a grin to play across each of their faces. There was a noise from the sidelines, though, as though...

Dante turned around, cutting the rocket down the middle, and Vergil cut it vertically, deflecting it across the room in quarters. A young woman stood there, covered in firearms, holding a smoking rocket launcher in her hands.

"Sorry, but this is no place for a little girl!" shouted Dante, raising his sword to Vergil again. "So beat it!"

"Shut up!" shouted the impudent lass, and fired another missile at the duo. They ran into the center of the room as the explosion hit the far wall, but the devils didn't seem to care. They attacked one another, the same as before, but the girl wanted in, and came charging at them with the bayonet of her bazooka.

Vergil pulled his sword away from Dante's, using it to deflect the girl's weapon as his brother stepped back. She came at him again, and Vergil punished her by lifting her off the ground and sending her across the floor with the force of his parry. He leapt into the air after her, and Dante attempted to cut at his twin as he passed. Vergil, however, deflected the attack effortlessly and brought Yamato down upon the girl.

She brought up the barrel of the rocket launcher at the last second, but could barely keep even the weakened devil at bay with it. "You forced him into this!" she grunted.

It was in that instant that Vergil understood. This girl... was Arkham's daughter.

"Is that what you think? Foolish girl."

Dante screamed as he came up behind them, and Vergil spun, pushing Dante off to one side. The girl, Mary, reeled from what Vergil had said; simple though it was, those few words were enough to shake her to her core.

Vergil and Dante continued fighting, Mary trying to come to terms with what her father had become. Eventually, Dante spun around and caught Vergil across the chest with Rebellion, and Vergil returned the blow in kind as both fell to their knees on the floor, blood flowing across it.

But then... there came the sound of clapping.

"Bravo, bravo!" The words, and the applause, had come from, of all people... a clown. A ridiculous-looking figure clad in purple, and outfitted even with a jester's cap, had come strolling into the room sometime in the fight. "I never _dreamed_ that things would go so smoothly! Well done, everyone, well done!"

Dante panted, and pushed himself up. "You..."

The jester moved with incredible speed, appearing in a flash next to the girl and taking hold of her weapon. "Don't be a bad girl, Mary!" He flung her end over end into the center of the chamber, keeping the rocket launcher almost as a souvenir. "Or you can expect a _spanking _from daddy later!"

The clown launched into a ridiculous song and dance, and Vergil would not tolerate this any further. "_INSANE BUFFOON!_ I don't know where you came from, but you **don't** belong here... now _leave!_" He charged and brought Yamato down overhead in an instant- but the jester caught the attack with his bare hands. _What!?_ thought Vergil in surprise.

"Zowie, that was close! But you've taken quite a trouncing today, haven't you, Vergil? You could've chopped me into confetti by now if you were in tip-top condition..."

Livid with rage, Vergil struggled for words. All he could choke out was, "...damn you!"

"You have lost." The words came from the jester, but they were not in his voice... they were in Arkham's. A quick elbow to the head sent Vergil skidding across the floor, and when he looked up again, Arkham stood where the clown had been a second before.

"...because you underestimated humans."

"What's going on...?" whispered Mary, and Arkham turned his head towards her.\

"Good girl. Pure and innocent. Just like your mother."

"You bastard!" She removed a pistol, and began to pull the trigger, when Arkham disappeared, and Jester entered the scene again. The two seemed to be one and the same. Jester appeared right above her, clutching her head, and said, "It's time for your spanking, my dear!"

He growled, and pulled Mary's head back, then slammed her face against the ground. "You want to know why the spell didn't break, hmm, Vergil?" Jester began to stand up, showing the same fervor that Arkham always had. "You had two amulets, and Sparda's blood. You had everything you needed to unleash the evil..."

"I told you before," gasped Dante, clutching a pistol, "I don't like anybody who has a bigger mouth than mine!"

Mockingly, Jester stood agape, his mouth comically large. Dante took offense and began firing wildly. But Jester bounced from place to place, never taking a shot, even going so far as to taunt his adversary at the same time.

"You are wounded and weak! Even _I_ can do..."

He flew out of the air, landing on Dante's face and standing on his head as he hit the floor. "...THIS to you!"

"Two amulets," said Arkham once more. "A set of Sparda's blood. Now, I need one more key." He knelt down, and picked up the rocket launcher. He moved towards Mary, holding it, bayonet-down, over her, and continued, "He sacrificed two things to suppress the tremendous force of this tower: his own Devil's blood, and a mortal priestess."

Without warning, Arkham plunged the blade deep into Mary's thigh, her blood mingling in the pool with the devils'. "I needed you, in whose body flows the same blood as the sacrificed woman. His spell cannot be undone without your blood!"

"It was quite a ride, you know!" cackled Jester, yanking the weapon from Mary's leg. "If any of you had died before getting here, our little plan would have gone to waste! Therefore, my job was to make you battle each other in order to weaken you. But at the same time, I had to guide you here and make sure that you were kept alive. I even went so far as dressing like a complete idiot!"

He laughed, then bent down and said to the girl, "It's time for bed, Mary... you can visit your dear mother..." He howled with laughter once more, but Mary, enraged, kicked the rocket launcher out of Jester's hand, and caught it as she stood.

"Whoa," exclaimed the clown with all the elegance of a typical Californian.

"Try me."

The two demon brothers crossed their blades across Jester's back now.

"It's time for the clown to bow out, Arkham," growled Vergil.

"Dude, the _show's over_," contributed his brother.

"Impressive," said Arkham. "I expected nothing less from the Devil's descendants. But aren't you forgetting something, Vergil? The spell's broken. What do you think will happen next?"

His words were full of venom as a column rose from the center of the room where the pool was. "Let's welcome chaos." The carved demons in the ceiling pulled away, opening the room to the central shaft of the Temen-Ni-Gru. Glowing red lines raced across the floor, and the platform itself rose from the ground. The shifting stone put the trio of attackers off balance, and Arkham ducked.

Mary, Vergil, and Dante all attempted a simultaneous attack, and their weapons met each other. At the same time, Arkham spun around, and with a single kick, knocked all three combatants off their feet. He halted, then turned the other way, and kicked the trio off the pillar entirely as it rose into the ceiling.

Dante and Mary hit the solid ground where the hallway lay before, among the falling stones, but Vergil landed on terra not-so-firma.

"Just sit and wait!" called out Arkham from above. "Wait for the birth of a new god! I shall take over the power of **Sparda!**"

Vergil didn't move. The fight had taken too much out of him, and he had fallen unconscious. The floor shifted and cracked, and the stone below him gave out...

...and the devil in blue plunged into the seemingly infinite blackness below.

* * *


	9. Chapter 9

* * *

Chapter Nine: Drive!

* * *

The Temen-Ni-Gru had finally stopped shifting and changing. The colossal central pillar that had appeared when the spell was broken seemed to unify the architecture, which had been warped from its original configuration into something almost unrecognizable.

At the bottom floor, near the center of the Underground Arena, there lay a lone figure. His sky-blue coat lay over him like a shroud, and his razor-edged katana was still clutched in his hand. But this figure was still alive, still breathing.

After the longest time, he rose from the ground, slowly. "Arkham," he growled. His devil power was returning, and his rage at the betrayal slowly building, until, at last, he could contain it no longer. "_Arkham_!" he shouted again, and transformed into his full devil form in a burst of blue energy.

A new form of guardian had been released upon the Temen-Ni-Gru after the transformation: the Fallen. Truly grotesque demons, these former angels were almost always concealed by their massive white wings, and enforced the will of evil with their deadly blades.

Attracted by the flare of energy in the Underground Arena, two now began to float slowly downwards. Upon their arrival, they saw a single devil, pouring forth so much power that he seemed to be warping the fabric of reality. The two Fallen looked at each other, confirming their thoughts via telepathic bond, but when they looked back at their target, he had disappeared.

There was a flash of white light, and the first Fallen was hacked apart in a spray of blood. The blue devil fell out of the air, kicked off the corpse as it plummeted, and launched himself at the other Fallen. It brought up its sword to block, but too late- his foe pierced the former angel's skull with his katana, used the corpse as another springboard, and leapt for the central pillar.

Vergil had returned.

He had climbed only a short distance when he reached what appeared to be the ruins of the Lair of Judgment. Devil power coursed through him still, clouding his mind with pure rage. He looked around, and seeing that the pillar seemed to reach up through the entire tower, decided it would be the most direct route to the top.

A cadre of Fallen already came on patrol to see what had happened to their allies; Vergil decided to show them firsthand. The sight was both awe-inspiring and terrifying. His speed and grace in the air seemed to defy the laws of gravity, and the precision of his attacks did not leave a single foe standing.

More and more aerial combatants came to attempt to end Vergil's rampage, but to no avail. He cut a swath of blood-spattered destruction through the tower, turning against all that stood in his way. At last, he could go no farther- his foes exhausted, he stopped at the closest available floor, the aptly-named Incandescent Space. It shimmered and glowed with what seemed to be the energy of a city block.

Vergil allowed himself to rest for a second, his devil trigger dissipating like the morning mist. The only notable features of the room were a single Divinity statue, and a door that led to the library... and from there, to the apex of the tower.

"Arkham," Vergil swore to himself, "I'm going to find you... and then, I'm going to kill you."

* * *


	10. Chapter 10

* * *

Chapter Ten: On the Hunt

* * *

Tok. Tok. Tok. Tok.

Vergil's boots echoed in the library; it was nearly silent, otherwise.

He slowly came around the perimeter; a massive battle seemed to have ensued here. _Good. That means Dante is still alive._ Entire shelves of books had been burnt, or worse, exploded, leaving naught but the charred stone. Leaves of singed paper lay on the ground, picking up and following Vergil for a second as he passed over them.

At length, he passed by the girl from before, huddled against the wall, but still clearly alive. Thinking her unimportant, he continued his march, barely sparing her a sidelong glance as he went. With a resonating creak, he opened the other door to the library, and passed through, letting it fall open and clatter against the wall.

_If that girl wants to follow,_ he thought, _so be it. It's her problem._

He emerged to an immense tower, aptly dubbed the Heavenrise Chamber. It stretched up into the inky blackness an incredible distance, and the only sources of illumination were the torches spaced every so often, with their soft, blue arcane flames.

With a mighty leap, Vergil sprung up to the second tier; the tower had become wrecked since the morphing of the Temen-Ni-Gru, and rubble covered most of the floors of the chamber. Lacking any other direction to go, he leapt again- and again- and again, from one step to the next, until he reached the very top, and threw open the large, ornate door there as well.

It revealed, in turn, a balcony of sorts on one of the upper levels of the Temen-Ni-Gru. Vergil stepped out onto it, gazing out. The sky had become cloudy, and overcast; it was like being in the eye of a horrendous storm. He looked upward, and saw that it was a good distance towards the top... and that something was glowing there, a fiery crimson glow.

He turned back, and down a small set of stairs to a massive door; a hole had been blown in the wall to his right, but he paid it no mind. He threw open the gate, and saw...

"What is this?" he mused to himself.

The room was wholly new- it was a cavernous place, in dark black stone, with the same red glow that the central pillar had before. A number of odd cubes lay around the room, some immobile, others floating and turning in the air. He looked up, and saw the door to the upper levels some two stories overhead, and wasted no time in making his way up.

He climbed onto a nearby cube, and when an airborne one floated down, he leapt upon it. It rose into the air at a steady rate, and halted near a platform of the odd blocks. It started to descend, and Vergil stepped off onto the hanging stage. It was like a dance, his careful ascent upwards; in no time at all, the devil reached the top, and exited the chamber.

This time, it opened into a strange antechamber. It was open, and dominated by a central platform whose sides dropped off into a deep pit. Three stairways rose from the far end, but only one ended in a doorway- the others had been sealed off by rubble. Vergil went through the one exposed door, into a tiny chamber where, again, only one of the available exits was open; the shields of two demon warriors lay here, indicating that this had indeed been the path Dante took. But an odd noise came from the next room... a noise of shifting metal.

With trepidation, he stepped beyond the threshold. The source of the noise became apparent immediately. The room itself was a vast hall, with rows of holes on the walls, ceiling, and floor all the way down. In regular intervals, great steel spears shot from the holes, in an advancing pattern and in rows of three. Each wave of deadly spikes left only a tiny opening, barely big enough for a man to move through. It was the Trial of Skill.

Vergil hesitated for only a moment, then burst into his full devil form. Glowing blue and sparking, he moved with a godlike speed, kicking off of walls, leaping through the air gracefully, and sometimes even disappearing from sight for just a second. With great proficiency, he evaded every deathtrap, despite their challenging swiftness. His devil trigger faded away as he came to rest on the other end of the hall, and walked, panting, through the hole in the wall there.

On the other side, there was only a small walkway. He stepped out onto it, and leapt into the air, landing on another balcony, like the one before; he took no time for a second gaze outward, and passed through the door.

_Hm. Familiar territory._

It opened to the hallway that led, in turn, to the Moonlight Mile. As soon as he entered, a number of Abysses rose from the ground, intent on stopping him. Vergil twirled the Yamato into a battle position, and scoffed, saying, "Come. You will be a prelude to my vengeance against Arkham."

The first to die leapt at Vergil, scythe blazing. Before it knew what had happened, he had drawn his sword and cut the demon clean in half in a spray of blood. As the body hit the ground, Vergil was already dashing forward to end the next combatant. It was like the beginning of the whole ordeal all over again.

As he began his attack, the Abyss sank into the ground. There was a noise behind the blue devil, and as he turned, the beast burst from the stone behind him, preparing to throw a burning projectile at the summit of its leap. Vergil, however, was in no mood for mercy, and performed a similar trick. He vanished, and reappeared, seemingly via teleportation, in midair behind the Abyss, and decapitated it as it realized where his foe was.

The last demon began to back away, thoughts of retreat running through its mind. Vergil, however, materialized directly in front of it in an instant, and just as quickly, plunged the Yamato into the monster's skull. Blood flew through the air as it fell back off of Vergil's katana, and he twirled it once more before replacing it in the sheath.

"How boring."

Full of adrenaline now, and eager to taste Arkham's blood, Vergil charged to the zenith of the Temen-Ni-Gru, through the Moonlight Mile, up the winding path, and onto the summit. Seven bells, adorned with graven skeletal angels, were suspended here, and the source of the fiery light was revealed. It was a massive column of light, rising from the ground and piercing the clouded sky... and at the eye of the storm, if one looked skyward, one could see a vision of the Demon World.

"Arkham... prepare to die!" Vergil shouted into the air, and stepped into the column of light. He steeled himself for battle in the ultimate battlefield- the demonic realm- as he rose swiftly into the tumultuous sky, and through the gate.

* * *


	11. Chapter 11

* * *

Chapter Eleven: Ruiner

* * *

_How odd._

Usually, in the Demon Realm, there are- as one might expect from the name- demons. But much to Vergil's confusion, there were virtually none to be seen, and all that he came across offered virtually no resistance. Anger welled up within him...

Dante had been here.

At length, Vergil came to a great door, brimming with demonic energy. His goal was in sight.

He put his hand against it, but just as he was about to push it open, something slammed into it on the other side, with an oddly familiar grunt. He could hear gunshots, roars, and all variety of grisly cacophony from beyond the gate. For this reason, Vergil elected to take another route. He propped himself against the nearby Divinity statue, in thought, and looked around.

Vergil glanced upward and saw that, over the doorway, was a large pile of rubble; however, it only rose up a short distance, and could be easily scaled. As he clambered upon the chalk-white stone, he saw below his brother Dante, locked in combat with a pulsating violet mass, a gelatinous aberration of shifting limbs, with faces that seemed to swim to the surface and disappear into the creature's bulk just as quickly. But the demonic energy behind it seemed somehow familiar, and the beast's cries likewise.

_There's no mistaking it,_ Vergil thought- _that slug is Arkham... a much more fitting form for him than before._

He jumped down onto one of the rocky crags that punctuated the battlefield and put his hand on the Yamato. Just as he was about to make his move, though, Arkham howled, "No use! Regardless of how strong you are, you're nothing but a half-breed!" Vergil stopped in his tracks. Arkham's voice seemed very far off now- that last remark had hit close to him for the cerulean devil.

_Regardless of how strong I am..._ he contemplated, _I'm nothing but a half-breed. A half devil... the human blood in my veins... it's making me weak... I must become—_

"...a pure demon, the real Sparda!" Arkham's voice interrupted his train of thought. The putrid mass shot forth a hand at Dante, who began to raise his sword; but Vergil, maddened, struck first. His sword seemed to flash through the air- in reality, it was sheer demonic power erupting from Yamato with Vergil's aid; he had named this technique the "Judgment Cut". It solidified on target, and Arkham's hand was cut from his body, writhing on the ground. In surprise, Dante and his opponent alike turned their gaze from each other, upward. "What's this?" demanded Arkham.

Vergil returned the stare, grinning wickedly. "Damn you!" shouted the aspiring demon whom he had struck. Vergil stood up upon the peak he was perched upon and pointed his katana at Arkham.

"I've come to retrieve my power," he said, twirling the sword for dramatic effect. "You can't handle it."

With that, he leapt, somersaulting in the air, and landed before his red-coated twin. Defensively, he now pointed Yamato at Dante's throat. "Look at you," Dante mocked, "making a big dramatic entrance and stealing **my** spotlight."

"Well- you don't possibly believe that **he**--" Vergil hit the severed hand with the flat of his blade, sending it back to its former owner. "...deserves to be our main event, now, do you?"

Arkham reattached the appendage, and Dante walked forward casually. "Now that you mention it... you're right." The two brothers, in agreement, marched forward for battle. Arkham, though, ever confident, growled, "Do you feel you can defeat me? Defeat the power of your father, the great Sparda!?"

Vergil scowled. "You should come to realize you cannot control the power of Sparda."

"You're wasting your time, buddy," Dante chimed in, pointing Rebellion at the sluggish blob. "I think he needs to learn the hard way."

Vergil stole a glance sideways at Dante, then back at Arkham. He struck Rebellion out of the way, and began to charge, with his brother following suit. Vergil struck first, bounding high into the air over Arkham, and cut into him with Yamato as he had against Beowulf. Dante finished up the attack by charging straight forward and driving Rebellion deep into the pulpy mass of flesh that was their foe. The attacks were only marginally effective; Arkham growled in pain, flailing and attacking wantonly, but the wounds began to seal themselves almost immediately.

Regrouping, the brothers struck again; Dante unleashed a savage three-hit maneuver, and Vergil vivisected the monster with another volley of Judgment Cut attacks. They were no more useful than last time, though, only causing minimal damage to Arkham. The two fell back, on opposite sides of the writhing demon. Vergil leapt over a passing tentacle that Arkham had sent out, cleaving it as he went, and shouted to his brother, "Dante! This isn't working... we need a stronger tactic!"

"Way ahead of ya, bro!" Dante returned. Vergil saw a burst of red energy from behind Arkham, and understood. He transformed into his own Devil Trigger form in a flash of blue and, at super speed, rejoined Dante on the other side. Dante, as usual, delighted in taunting the enemy: "I told you before, dude... the show's over!"

The next simultaneous assault was, by far, more successful. Though the brothers could only hold their respective full-powered forms for a short while, they had managed to wear down Arkham before either of them reverted. "It's time to finish this," said Vergil. Dante nodded his assent. Arkham growled madly and thrashed about, almost begging euthanasia.

Both devils thrust their swords, in perfect synchronicity, into Arkham's sides. Arkham, seemingly unaffected, seized both of them, and feebly threw them back. Vergil scoffed and forced Yamato deep into the monster's body, with Dante doing the same on the other side. The blades clashed against one another, and emerged on opposite sides; Vergil seized the Rebellion in flight, and Dante took hold of Yamato. The brothers, unified, gave a few practice swings of each other's weapons, and stood side by side as Arkham stepped back in horror.

They leapt at the same time, each devil's precise attacks cutting deep into Arkham; they landed on the other side of the man-slug, who gushed forth torrents of blood and foul substances, and casually switched weapons. As Vergil sheathed Yamato, Dante removed his pistols, and spun them stylishly, preparing to deal a final shot. Just before he could fire, though, Arkham knocked the gun out of his hand, where it was caught by... Vergil.

"I'll try it your way for once," he said, and they both pointed their firearms at the would-be demon.

"Remember what we used to say?" asked Dante.

"Don't do it!" pleaded Arkham piteously.

Dante and Vergil grinned, and stood back-to-back. Brothers again, they said only one word:

"Jackpot!"

As they pulled the triggers, two devil power-infused bullets burst forth, dealing the final blow. As Arkham's newfound form began to dissipate, ejecting him from the Demon World, he wailed, "I have the true power of Sparda...!"

"Not very classy for someone's dying words." Vergil tossed Dante the pistol over his shoulder, and began to walk away- but something caught his eye. As Arkham wasted away, three shapes appeared behind him... one with a steely shimmer, and the others in silver and gold. It was the Perfect Amulet, separated into its halves... and their father's sword, Force Edge.

When Arkham was killed, it rent a hole in the arena, in the very fabric of the Demon World. It was through this gap that the artifacts began to fall. Vergil started, and made a mad run for them, leaping directly into the fissure without any regard for his own safety, and Dante, realizing what had happened, followed fast on his heels.

Vergil caught his amulet in free fall, and Dante his...

And the only other sound to accompany their descent into the inky void was the ringing of the Force Edge as it fell through the Demon World.

* * *


	12. Chapter 12

* * *

Chapter Twelve: Screaming Souls

* * *

The Force Edge rang as it tumbled, end over end, falling into the cavern below. It landed in a subterranean river bank with a splash, and the two devil brothers landed immediately after, on opposite sides of the blade. Dante rushed forward to seize the weapon, but Vergil rolled and apprehended it first, wrenching it from the ground harshly with a grunt.

Dante stepped back, and the amulet in his hand glinted in the light coming from the vortex in the distance. It caught Vergil's eye, and he held out his free hand, beckoning.

"Give that to me," muttered Vergil.

"No way! You got your own," said Dante, and placed the amulet in the back pocket of his jeans.

"Well I want yours, too." Vergil raised the Force Edge and pointed it at his brother. The two began to circle each other in the shallow river.

"What're you gonna do with all that power, huh? No matter how hard you try... you're never gonna be like father."

_No matter how hard you try..._ thought Vergil, Dante's words echoing in his head.

_Regardless of how strong you are, _came Arkham's voice now, _you're nothing but a half-breed!_

_You are an incomplete being as well... both human and demon blood mingle in your veins..._

Vergil's expression hardened. His brother had long ago accepted his heritage, and learned to fight for a cause other than himself. Vergil realized this... his psyche strained with the realization, the very notion that all he had done, his entire life, had been a farce- that no matter what his effort was, he would never be as strong as Sparda, or even his own brother... he fought for the wrong reasons.

_No... that can't be... this is the right path! I need to be stronger. That is all. I can surpass even Sparda! And I shall become the ruler of the human world and the Demon World. That is my way... but..._

_No matter how hard you try..._ _you're never gonna be like father._

"**You're wasting time!**" shouted Vergil, and began to run towards his brother, with his father's sword raised overhead. Even as he let loose his battle cry, Dante did not flinch- but when the sword came down, Dante reacted in a second. There was a spurt of blood, and both twins mirrored one another.

Dante had struck at the same moment as Vergil, and in defense, both had caught each other's swords in their bare hands. The blood trickled down the blades and mingled with the rapids beneath their feet, and they strained against each other's efforts with all their might.

"We are the sons of Sparda," muttered Dante, in a tone much more solemn than his usual manner. "Within each of us flows his blood... but more importantly, his _soul_!" They pushed apart, water spraying in the air as the brothers slid to a halt. "And now... my soul is saying it wants to stop you!"

Vergil simply laughed. "Unfortunately, our souls are at odds, brother. I need more power!" He clenched his fist tightly, the leather of his glove pulling taught as he did so.

"And we're supposed to be twins."

"Twins," echoed Vergil, bringing his sword around, "right..."

The two walked slowly towards each other, boots splashing in the water. "Come on, man!" called Dante, and Vergil grimaced. Water sprayed into the air as Vergil teleported in front of the red devil. The two clashed blades, in a frenzy of movement, and eventually they pushed back again.

"I said come on!" shouted Dante once more.

"Hmph. How boring," replied Vergil, pulling the Force Edge up beside his head. "I would've expected you to be more prepared by now, brother."

Dante's hands went to his pistols, and Vergil sent the broadsword flying through the air. Gunshots echoed throughout the massive cavern and ricocheted off the metal, sending the sword off-course. Vergil followed through, though, with an old standby attack. His right hand went to the Yamato, and he charged forward, attacking wantonly.

The assault would've taken off Dante's head had he not rolled under the barrage at the last minute; Vergil caught the Force Edge in his left hand as it boomeranged back, and they turned to face each other again.

"So who says I'm not prepared, bro?"

_What is this?_ thought Vergil, _He can't be this strong, not already!_ _He can't win..._

Vergil was at the limit of his sanity. If things kept up at this rate, he'd completely snap.

In a desperate attempt to secure victory, he began a furious assault. He loosed strikes from Yamato, teleported overhead for deathblows with Force Edge, and even let off storms of Judgment Cut techniques, but to no avail. For some reason, no matter how hard Vergil tried, he could barely even scratch Dante.

_This is my last chance._

"You trash... _this is the end!_" screamed Vergil. His Devil Power flared to incredible levels, pushing the water of the river aside, and cracking the stone around them. Dante was forced back by the power, and Vergil growled ferociously, with an inhuman rage. In a flash, he was gone- and the cavern began rumbling.

Dante looked around, off-guard, when sword flashes began to appear in the air. It was like the Judgment Cut, except Vergil was nowhere to be seen. But Dante thought he saw something between the flashes.

He ducked and rolled, leaping and dodging around the deadly blows, and simultaneously trying his hardest to see...

And then, his thoughts were confirmed. In a split second between the cuts, he saw Vergil's demonic visage, contorted with rage. Dante waited, and found his opportunity- an instant after one of the cuts, he struck with Rebellion. There was a burst of blue light, and Vergil fell back into the water, on one knee.

"Am I... being defeated?" panted Vergil.

_How can he be stronger than me? It's not possible, is it?_

"What's wrong, is that all you got!? Come on, get up- you can do better than that," taunted Dante.

The words struck a nerve with Vergil- it was the last straw. Enraged at the thought that his brother was stronger than him, that he could not win, that Arkham had been right all along, Vergil willed himself to rise. He stood up, straining, howling in anger, and breathing heavily. The entire Demon World seemed to shake with his effort.

_Is power truly the key? _The thought churned in Vergil's head endlessly now.

"The portal to the Human World is closing, Dante... because the amulets have been separated."

"Let's finish this, Vergil. I have to stop you, even if that means killing you."

Vergil swung the Force Edge out to the side, and began to run for Dante. His brother charged in kind. The whole world seemed to be moving in slow motion. They both yelled mighty battle cries at the top of their lungs, but they barely heard it. They struck simultaneously...

Their screams of rage, of justice- the cries of devils- echoed throughout the cavern. Blood flew through the air, a rain of crimson petals, and the battle was over.

The two brothers stood, back to back, for what felt like an eternity, panting heavily. But, defeated, and with almost no strength left, Vergil pitched forward; Force Edge landed in the riverbed, and his half of the amulet fell before him into the water. But Vergil did not go for the sword.

Out of breath, severely wounded, he knelt down, and grasped the precious bauble. Vergil stumbled to his feet as Dante put away his sword.

_Perhaps... power... is not..._

"No one can have this, Dante!" said Vergil, walking backwards, slowly, to the stone precipice on the edge of the waterfall. "It's mine. It belongs to a son of Sparda." He stepped to the edge, and Dante turned and ran to stop him- but Vergil held the tip of Yamato to Dante's throat, and he stopped in his tracks. "Leave me and go, if you don't want to be trapped in the Demon World. I'm staying. This place was our father's home..."

He leaned back, and began to fall from the precipice, into an imperceptible void below. Dante shouted and reached forward, and Vergil cut the palm of Dante's hand as he fell. The action was not to stop his brother, though... it was to provide a memento. It was a last, grisly display of affection and camaraderie between two devil brothers- the two sons of Sparda.

As Vergil fell into the void, he thought only one thing:

_Thank you, Dante._

* * *

Epilogue: It'll Be Fun...

* * *

Vergil found himself kneeling in a sea of blood in the Demon World. The sea was punctuated by gravestones, and broken pillars and stone statues of unknown origin. Still winded from the fight, he attempted to catch his breath, and propped himself up with Yamato. As he arose, in the distance, he saw a crimson cloud, with three points of light that arced electricity.

He had heard the tales. He had read the lore. He had even slain a few of the servants...

There was no mistaking it.

This was Mundus.

"It'll be fun to fight with the Prince of Darkness," said Vergil, mockingly. "If my father did it..."

He drew Yamato quickly from the saya, holding it straight out to the side. "...I should be able to do it too!"

His cocky grin morphed into a grimace, and he gave one last heroic battle cry as he charged off into the distance to combat the devil called Mundus as his father had done before him.

* * *


End file.
